Fading Pawsteps
by Lightning of the West
Summary: Echoes of the past rang out loudly. They tell a story, one of lost souls who wander aimlessly in search of clarity and most of all peace, struggling to escape the snares of their pasts. But connection to the past is not so easily broken as they would have hoped, if at all possible. They'll continue running until then. Moving forward is all they have left now.


Laughter filled the air as a slovenly figure encrusted over in a coat of mud materialized from the dingy depths of a trench. It sloshed its way a path through the thick muck, a suction noise like pop sounding each time it forcibly snatched a grime laden foreleg out of the brown sludge.

The foul smelling filth clung to the being's body like a new layer of skin. The muck weighed its form down in the most disconcerting way possible as the being painstakingly struggled to use their dirt caked claws to scale their way up and out of the swamped gully all the while as merry laughter sung through the air directed at it.

This desperate and annoyed swamp creature was me. The one baring the full brunt of mocking laughter was sadly me as well.

This was the unfortunate reality of what transpired when someone was careless enough to camp out the night in a sewer pipe located in a ditch in the midst of a rainstorm while sharing the company of a mischievous she-cat. The irate expression plastered across my face, along with goops of mud, was evidence enough of what particular mood I was currently in.

I've been off on my own for nearly eight moons now, and incidents like climbing out of a pool of mud seemed to be the highlight of my day as a wandering healer. No outbreak of sicknesses or cats in need of aid, unless the cat in question entailed me, though truthfully it was probably a sign of good fortune that I've as of yet encounter someone needing my help.

Besides _**her**_, of course.

At least my herbs are still clean, I acknowledge in a fleeting thought of goodwill. My mind jumped to the bulging bundle of cobweb clasped tightly in my jaws. It contained my livelihood, or to be more exact, near every single herb that was a necessity to my craft as a medicine cat.

_**Ex-medicine cat**_, a sardonic voice sounded off in my head. I snorted out loud to myself. That was true, I suppose. If we were going by present time the title of medicine cat was not something I would readily stand up to claim currently.

With a grunt of exertion, I was able to dig my claws into the dirt and heave my way out of the ditch. I crawled onto level land, pausing momentarily to catch my breath, and cast a last parting glance down into the dark hovel I'd just haphazardly clawed my way out of.

The only question that now remained was where the one responsible for my tumble into it was?

I didn't have long to wait before I got my answer in the form of a bemused, slender she-cat that lay awaiting me some pawsteps away on the bank of the ditch. Everything about her radiated smugness. From the amused twinkle in her eye to the way in which her soft creamy fur puffed out and tail twitched, there wasn't a thing about her that concealed the merriment she got from watching me trudge around in mud.

"You're a plague to my life and every creature that walks this land," I growled, spitting out my bundle of herbs and plopping down onto my muddy romp in disgust.

Grinning, she flashed her fangs which gleamed bright under the sheen from the sun. "Is that anyway to speak to your mate, Whitepaw?"

"I don't recall ever agreeing to that," I replied grimly, beginning to roughly scrape scoops of goop out of my fur, visibly reeling at the gunky taste. "You're liable to give the wrong impression to others if you continue saying that."

"And what would that be?" she purred slightly, rising to her paws and slowly slinking to my side. "We're traveling together, correct? We offer each other company while keeping the other warm at night, don't we? We also look out for each other. You're an exceptional healer and I'm an incredibly skilled hunter that keeps you fed day by day. To any outsider it would appear only obvious that we're in a relationship. Why else would such a beautiful cat like me be caught following around such a sour and baleful tom, if not for love?"

I buried my head in the dirt, sighing heavily as I wearily glanced up to meet her amused gaze again. "Would you remind me again why it is that you love me?"

"Why, because you're my hero," she seemed to recite for the umpteenth time, smiling at my annoyed expression. "The selfless and courageous, heroic white savior that appeared from the heavens and braved sure death to rescue me from an untimely demise without batting a single eye the entire time. I owe you my life. You're my peace of mind. My one and true hope in this world."

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me when you say it that way?"

"Oh, but I mean every single word of it, Whitepaw," she stated matter of factly. "I love you."

I frowned. And that was the problem. As much as she said and did things to get under my skin and drive me mad, it was always when she allegedly professed her love to me that I couldn't determine whether or not she was joking. This was troubling for someone in a position like me, especially since she was a cat that did nothing but joke and endlessly tease me.

"I've explained this before to you already, Canary," I spoke tiredly. "I'm a medicine cat, so you know that we can never be anything more than what we are now."

She hummed softly, her tail twitching back and forth slowly as she observed me. "From what I remember you said that you were no longer that kind of healer, so that excuse doesn't work. And beyond that, only a fool would deny someone their heart's desire, Whitepaw."

"Despite my absence of title, I still abide by the code of the Medicine cats," I responded hotly. "So I'll continue to deny you all I want."

A smile split her lips. "So you're admitting that you're a fool?"

"Wah, no! Weren't you listening to a thing I said? I'm-" The words died in my throat the moment the implications of her own words slid into place for me. I'd been led straight into a trap.

Feeling my spine stiffen and fur begin to heat up in embarrassment, I silently busied myself with trying to remove the rest of the mud from out of my coat. Four moons I've had to put up with this and it only seemed to grow tougher as the days grew longer.

Fidgeting with laughter, Canary lowered herself so that the two of us were now sitting eye level. Being this close, I couldn't help but notice just how the corners of her lips involuntarily twitched as if she was constantly trying to fight back a smile. Knowing just how much she loved to torment me, I wasn't too surprised to see this as I stared back sourly.

"You really are cute when you pout like that," she said much to my own continued displeasure. "I'm going out to hunt. I should be back shortly, so try to have yourself cleaned up by then. I'd hate for someone to come by and think I let you go around playing in the mud."

She said this sweetly, like a mother to her kit, and then rose up to go. As her body turned, I caught sight of a jagged scar running down the side of her body like a bolt of lightning. It stuck out tremendously against her otherwise soft and spotless creamy coat. Such abhorrent harshness contrasted against a backdrop of benign tenderness.

For me it was a brutal reminder of the first time I'd met Canary, and for her an apparent symbol of the cat that had saved her life. I hadn't thought about much of anything the moment I drug her sodden and bloody body of that rushing river, only that I had a desperate desire to do everything remotely plausible within my ability to save her.

It wasn't a memory I tended to like to linger on for reasons I'd rather not discuss. The only thing of note that I could speak on was after the fact she had felt indebted to me for rescuing her and after fully healing decided on her own that she'd tag along with me, despite my best efforts to detour her away.

I silently watched her retreating form as she padded away, the way in which her ears swiveled slightly outward, how her tail arched in the air, and how she didn't even react to the presence of the cat sitting on the bank of the ditch as she walked directly right by it. But of course, I wouldn't have expected her to. She hasn't the entire time we've traveled together. And for that matter never has the cat ever reacted to her walking pass it. No, its attentions always been focused entirely on me and nothing else.

Just like always.


End file.
